


in the eye of the beholder

by antikytheras



Series: i made poor life choices and now i have to write genyatta everyday [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Haunted Houses, Humor, Journey to the West AU, M/M, Past Tense, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, genji stop that's a monk, i'm back on my bullshit, that's it that's my sanzang/oni tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 18:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13576275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antikytheras/pseuds/antikytheras
Summary: In the early days of their acquaintance, Genji believed that Sanzang was a kind and foolish monk.





	in the eye of the beholder

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place after the chengtu interlude and before genji "eats" zen in [a case for consumption](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562223) which is the work that was posted right before this one in my daily mistakes series. you don't have to read that one to enjoy this one, but to those who wanted more to this verse, well— just check the end note :-)

In the early days of their acquaintance, Genji believed that Sanzang was a kind and foolish monk. He assuaged all those who came before him, never once so much as sparing a glance at who they were or what they’d done, so long as they were bending and breaking beneath the weight of their sins.

‘As long as they are willing to live with who they’ve become,’ was all Sanzang had offered in explanation.

Genji had watched, curious at first, then growing increasingly fascinated as he eased the souls of those who crossed their path, no matter how impossible it seemed.

‘How do you do it?’ he asked one day, after Sanzang returned from a three-hour absence in some _yōkai_ -infested woods with a lost child in tow.

Sanzang had smiled and patted the child’s head. He was completely unharmed. They both were.

Then he’d looked up at him and smiled a slightly different smile, one that Genji had never seen directed at anyone other than himself. ‘You will understand before our journey comes to an end,’ Sanzang promised, and for some reason Genji had completely forgotten about the exchange, too focused on the task at hand. When the child was returned to his rightful place, the lost kid’s mother had been beside herself with joy, and promised never to let the child out of sight ever again.

The happy ending had pushed all thoughts of questioning the monk’s methods out of his mind. He never had to reflect on Sanzang’s words, until—

 

 

 

 

 

The village was secluded, welcoming, and (predictably) haunted.

‘This is my companion,’ was all the heavenly sanction Genji needed before he was ushered into a full, delicious feast, a nice, hot bath and then a warm, fluffy bed. In that order.

The next day, a villager went missing. It was the villager who had waited on Genji the night before. She had smiled at him without fear or malice, and Genji had wondered, not for the first time, if this was the kind of world Sanzang lived in. No wonder he found it so easy to help everyone and everything.

‘Call me Zenyatta,’ Sanzang repeated, snapping Genji out of his reverie.

‘Are you annoyed?’ Genji asked, incredulous. ‘Aren’t you a monk? Don’t your people have infinite patience and goodness and wisdom? Isn’t that what they teach you in monk school?’

‘Is that what they teach _you_ in demon school?’ Zenyatta asked, one perfect eyebrow arched pointedly.

Genji grinned. ‘No, don’t be silly. That’s what my brother teaches me. Demon school taught me how to eat monks like you.’

They were trapped under the piercing rays of the midday sun, crouched in the dirt and examining the body that had turned up in front of an old, uninhabited house. The face had been torn apart until it was no longer recognisable. This was the kind of thing that Genji the wayward demon was more-than-familiar with, but if Zenyatta found anything unpalatable, the most he did was wrinkle his nose at the stench.

‘The poor dear,’ Zenyatta murmured once he was done examining the bloated corpse’s fingernails. ‘I’ll perform her last rites and then we’ll speak to the villagers.’

Genji bounced to his feet and quickly ran away. ‘I’ll be right over here, right out of smiting range!’

Oh, and how Zenyatta had laughed. It made quite the sight, the monk who was currently at the top of his hierarchy laughing bright-and-loud while kneeling in the dirt in front of a corpse under the harsh light of day.

 

 

 

 

 

‘Can you tell us about the house?’ Zenyatta enquired, setting down his cup of tea on the plain wooden tray.

The village heads and elders were gathered into the chief villager’s dining room. Genji supposed it was the closest thing they had to an audience hall. He’d been playing the role of mute, stupid muscle ever since the first time they’d stopped by a small town and his quick wit, devilishly good looks and unfortunate propensity for illegal and very bad things almost got them kicked out of their (free) accommodation. Zenyatta had never said anything to blame him for it— In fact, Genji was fairly sure that the monk had only found it amusing.

But for now, he was content to sit by Sanzang’s side and watch as the men and women with balding-white-hair squirmed in their seats like children who’d been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

Zenyatta lifted the cup of tea to his lips and took a sip. Then another. Then another.

Finally, the village chief broke the silence.

‘The woman who’d lived there— She was a— A terrible person,’ he stammered out.

Zenyatta raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’

‘Her husband died to one of those damned no-good demons—’

Genji almost _preened_. Then Zenyatta pinched his thigh under the table, and he very nearly gave a yelp.

All eyes bore down on him. Zenyatta continued to drink his tea.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, trying not to laugh when he explained, ‘Demons. Nasty things. Can’t stand them, myself.’

The village chief nodded vehemently, and the illusory foothold must have helped bolster his confidence because he wasn’t stammering when he carried on with his story. ‘Her husband died early, see— And she was a pretty little thing, yes she was. So, well, we all have eyes—’ And here the rest of his village elders nodded their agreement in a fairly impressive solidarity, ‘—and well sir, it became obvious that she was… How to put this… Wouldn’t want to offend your sensibilities…’

Zenyatta smiled encouragingly. ‘Go on.’

‘The lady was _sweet_ on her dead husband’s brother!’

A collective shudder ran through the villagers, like a wave of uniform disgust.

Zenyatta’s smile was frozen in place. It was obvious that he, just like Genji, had long put the pieces together to form the complete picture. ‘Oh my.’

‘We couldn’t have any of that, of course— Think of the children! The poor children, so young and impressionable— So, well, out here in this part of the world, we do this thing called witch-burning.’

Zenyatta put his tea down and primly folded his hands in his lap. ‘Yes, I believe I’ve heard of it.’

‘So we tried to get rid of whatever demon had come over her, and we all know demons don’t like fire—’ True, Genji thought, but you couldn’t blame them, there was little in the world that really _liked_ fire. ‘—so we burned her. Then we boarded up the house. We’ve been meaning to get rid of it, but, well…’

‘Well?’

‘Her spirit’s haunting the thing,’ the village chief admitted, shoulders sagging in defeat. ‘That’s what we’d like you to help us with. Please help us get rid of her.’

Zenyatta got up from his seat at the head of the table and clapped a hand on the chief’s back.

‘We’ll do our best.’

‘We?’ Genji sniped once they were both well out of earshot. ‘ _We_? Who said anything about me coming with you?’

Zenyatta beamed at him, the perfect picture of innocence. ‘Surely you wouldn’t leave this poor defenceless monk all by his lonesome in that scary haunted house?’

‘Why are you even helping them?’ Genji fired back. ‘They’re terrible. I’m ready to tear this whole place apart, myself. Can I?’

‘No,’ Sanzang ordered, but there was something that could have almost been mistaken for pride in Zenyatta’s eyes.

(Genji could’ve sworn that he’d heard the faint ghost of a whisper. ‘ _Not yet_.’)

 

 

 

 

 

‘I can’t believe you’re making me sleep in this.’

The bed was large and covered in dust. Zenyatta had explored the abandoned halls of the haunted mansion without so much as a lick of fear slowing his curious footsteps. He’d drawn out a rough sketch of the mansion’s layout, then pointed at the escape routes and the dead ends, then drafted out a long document for backup plans and contingencies, and then he’d looked up at Genji and said that they should honestly just go to bed and wait for a terrifying ghost to shake them awake.

‘This is the most efficient method,’ Zenyatta assured him, patting the space next to where he was already curled up.

‘Have you _tried_ this before?’ Genji asked incredulously.

Zenyatta was positively _vibrating_ in excitement. ‘Nope.’

‘Do you have a death wish or something?’ Genji demanded, but he found himself crawling in bed with the monk anyway.

He could feel his traitorous face flushing a dull red. Oh boy. That was a hell of a thought.

Zenyatta’s smile was sweet-and-trusting when he pointed out, ‘But I have you with me.’

In that moment, Genji almost couldn’t decide which would be scarier: to sleep facing the mirror, or the monk who’d decided to put his life in Genji’s not-that-capable hands.

 

 

 

 

 

When Genji found himself being shaken awake, his first instinct was to mumble, ‘I can’t believe that actually worked.’

Then he actually opened his eyes and almost fell back screaming at the sight of a woman in a white, bloodied robe with long black hair and burns all over her body.

‘Fuck— Shit— Motherfucking—’

Yeah, okay, his voice might’ve cracked a little, so what? He was a grown man, he could be a man and admit it—

Then his hand met empty air where Zen’s body should-have-been, and he immediately snapped his head back to glare at the demon and demand, ‘Where is he?’

The demon abruptly slammed itself into the ceiling bodily, and stayed there staring at Genji with her one good eye while she appeared to be making snow angels in the dust that had accumulated on the rafters (and now how did that even get there?).

‘Where is he?’ he repeated, and the demon giggled and vanished.

‘Fuck,’ he swore, and the door slammed open.

Genji raced out, one hand going to rest at the _wakizashi_ strapped to his hip, only to clutch at empty air.

He stared at his naked hip. Then a bit higher up, at his naked chest. Then down further, where his bits were—

He closed his eyes and groaned.

‘Where the fuck are my clothes?’ he screamed.

 

 

 

 

 

Demons said he was a terrifying man with his sword. When Hanzo heard the rumour, he’d snorted, and said he was more terrifying _without_.

Genji ran into the closest room and found an eldritch abomination, an accumulation of eyes stuck in a large shit-shaped pile of rotting flesh like donut sprinkles, and managed to make it flinch when he shouted, ‘Where’d you put my Bacon?’

The pile of eyes screeched in confusion. (What’s a _bacon_?)

‘My sword! My sword _s_. Plural. Where the fuck did you put ‘em? Also, can I have my monk back, please? Oh yeah, and maybe my clothes too.’

It bleated out a negative sound. (I don’t know, man. You named your swords _Bacon_? Are they _both_ Bacon? How exactly does this work? One’s Bae and one’s Ken?)

Genji rolled his eyes. ‘Great. Can you let me out now?’

It made a confused noise of assent, and Genji found himself getting escorted out the door.

He repeated the process several times, grateful for the silly little briefing Zenyatta had given him earlier today, and the thought of Zenyatta made him zip in and out of every room in a flash.

He found his swords in the kitchen sink, camouflaged among the very sharp cutting knives under a clever illusion spell, and deflected them all when they rose to attack him.

‘Stop that,’ he snapped at the lesser demon, and it wilted into the shadows, suitably admonished.

He found Zenyatta standing patiently by the main entrance, blood and demon intestines splattered all over his _kasaya_. The individual orbs on his oversized _mala_ , usually sitting round his neck, were now rotating behind him in a quiet circle of bright blue energy.

Genji stared.

Zenyatta stared back.

They locked eyes, and then, for the tiniest second, Zenyatta flicked his gaze downward.

Genji fought the urge to cover himself with his hands.

‘Like the view?’ he said instead, giving Zen’s bloodied clothes an appreciative once over.

He did not expect the monk to quietly reply, ‘Yes.’

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment. Then Zenyatta tossed a bundle of cloth toward Genji, who was all too grateful to have something to conveniently cover his junk with when he caught it.

‘There’s, ah— A slight problem,’ Zenyatta said delicately.

‘What?’ Genji asked, staring at him blankly.

He gestured at the blood staining his clothes, and Genji felt his mind return to reality. ‘Oh. Right. Uh. You can. Have mine?’

‘Oh! Right, right.’

Genji felt like a child again when he turned his back so that Zenyatta could have some privacy when he changed into his demon’s clothes and the demon changed into his.

When they turned back to face each other, Genji couldn’t help but laugh. Zen looked ridiculous in his hood. Even more ridiculous in his belt. It was a smaller, less conspicuous version of the one on his demon body, of course, but the symbol for ghost, modified to look like a blinking cat, looked uncomfortably suited to Zenyatta’s mischievous personality.

‘You look good, demon,’ Genji joked.

Zenyatta’s lip twitched into a smile. ‘As do you, my dear bloodthirsty monk.’

 

 

 

 

 

The report went smoothly.

‘Her vengeful spirit has been released,’ Sanzang assured the villagers, and they let out a collective sigh of relief.

Genji frowned. Released? That was some deliberately vague wording.

‘I spoke with the spirit, after my companion here—’ Genji absentmindedly ducked his head in acknowledgement, his focus directed more toward what the monk was _actually saying_. ‘—subdued her with his blade. It was a most glorious battle, I assure you.’

Genji’s lip twitched.

‘Her spirit will pass on into the cycle of reincarnation within twenty-four hours. That was what she promised me.’

Now that their problems were solved, the villagers were only too happy to see them go, especially after Genji and Zenyatta had stumbled out of the haunted mansion wearing each other’s clothes. It was only after Zenyatta’s (hurried) explanation that the villagers finally stopped looking like they were about to find their pitchforks and burn _Genji_ at the stake for _his_ sexual deviance.

Genji tried not to bury his face in his hands. He settled for a somewhat strained question while the pair continued on their journey through the woods to the next part of China that linked to Tianzhu. ‘So what happened to you while we were separated?’

Zenyatta shrugged. ‘It would appear that demons have little in the way of imagination. They mostly tried to eat me, until I convinced them that a little human monk like me was hardly worth their time.’

Genji thought back to the red-stained _kasaya_. ‘Uh huh. Did that convincing involve any killing?’

Zenyatta hummed. ‘Perhaps. But that _kamma_ is mine to shoulder, and mine alone. Much like how the villagers will shoulder their _kamma_ , which I could not have changed had I tried.’

Genji stared, his mind only focusing on the first part of that revelation. ‘Back in the tent, that day— You could’ve killed me, couldn’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Zenyatta replied, plain and simple, and a chill ran down Genji’s spine again, much like when the monk had revealed that Genji’s true name was just one of the many cards he had hidden in his hand. But Zenyatta’s smile warmed Genji from within, until the frost had no choice but to give way to the first blooms of spring. ‘But I’m glad I did not have to.’

(And Genji thought he could hear that same ghost whisper, ‘ _Thank you._ ’)

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so i finally got around to watching saiyuki and wow is it gay. i'm so gay. send help
> 
> that also means more sanzang/oni (maybe) but we'll see :-)
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/_antikytheras)


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